


Different

by endofunctor



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Sappy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-08
Updated: 2011-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofunctor/pseuds/endofunctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life has been different for Dave in a hypothetical post-SBURB world where he works as a DJ ever since Terezi Pyrope just showed up out of the blue. No framing, just sheer cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different

Sometimes, if he gets home late, he finds her asleep on the bed. It was hard to get her used to a diurnal cycle, and she tends to fall asleep way earlier than he does. So he puts his headphones on and starts mixing, but first he makes sure that she’s tucked in; whether it’s reflex or a dream, she usually winds up grabbing his hand, and he swears she grins when she does it.

Sometimes he gets ambushed as soon as he opens his front door, and even the reflexes that Sburb had left enhanced, even his training with Bro all those years, even his own anticipation, doesn’t stop her from dragging him inside with a cackle that sounds like a hyena, remixed and remastered in HD surround. Terezi’s sense of smell seems to go beyond just giving her an excuse to lick his face; she can smell him coming by the time he opens the apartment hallway door, and she somehow manages to surprise him every single time.

Even working clubs is different now; she likes showing up to listen to his FR3SH B34TS, and he’s popular enough that he can usually convince the bouncer that the girl in the corner eating a bag of ketchup packets she brought in herself isn’t actually going to cause trouble. If he can’t get her in a joint, he just doesn’t play, and he eats ramen for a week or three.

Plus, sometimes afterwards a girl in the audience will come up to him and start talking; he used to have a reputation as a womanizer before a bundle of knives in the shape of a girl showed up on his doorstep wearing makeup that couldn't disguise the personality beneath and the dumbest horn-covering hat he's ever seen. And invariably, a pair of red glasses appear over their shoulder soon afterwards, and he has to hide his approval when Terezi turns on, well, the Terezi, and starts talking about “Oh my god, it is the DJ Sword!” or sometimes “Can I please have the autograph?”

He knows when that variation is coming because she grabs a pen and pad of paper on the way out.

And by the time he’s finished giving her the 4th autograph of the month as she leans eagerly on her cane, just the picture of excitement, the other girl almost always looks annoyed. When Terezi asks her if she is “also a fan of the DJ Sword” she just gets frustrated and leaves. Dave would never admit it, but he thinks it’s goddamn hilarious. And she knows, and he knows she knows, and she knows he knows she knows, and so on.

The reviews are mostly the same, though occasionally there will be a blurb about ‘Ketchup Girl’ if Terezi did anything especially odd. He still has the first concert review that mentions her pinned to the wall of the apartment:

“…finally, DJ Sword ended with a return to his witch house roots by remixing the latest single from WE ΔRE CΔSTLE .  
But one of the biggest attention-grabbers was what most people are calling Ketchup Girl. She brought in a bottle of what she called ‘the ketchup’ and consumed the entire thing raw over the concert, while grinning at everybody and nothing and just barely avoiding tripping anybody with her cane. When the owner was asked as to why she hadn’t been kicked out, he simply replied that no rules had been broken.  
DJ Sword is well worth listening to if you like happy hardcore infused with downtempo witch house vibes, and he can spin vinyl like no other. Just look out for Ketchup Girl.”

After that, she tends to get a wide berth at Dave’s concerts. She just finds it hilarious, and so does he, even though he tells her that she’s killing his sales. She isn’t.

And sometimes, when they sit on the park bench as the sun paints the sky what Terezi tells him smells like “the spiced apple cider with hints of oranges and lemons, it is a symphony of the scent!”, he takes her hand in his and their fingers intertwine like timelines.

He’s too cool to say anything, but nothing needs to be said.


End file.
